The Masque
by vigilantism
Summary: Many of the bar's patrons had pulled off their masks, and after a few drinks, Ffamran figured that he was anonymous enough here that he could do the same. Written for areyougame @ dw. Prompt was "Final Fantasy XII, Ffamran: Masquerade - it was easier to be someone else"


The Winter Masquerade had always been a big to-do in Archades. At least, as long as one was well off enough to be invited. There were always underprivileged citizens gathering, trying to find some way to get into the central part of the city and into all the biggest parties. One or two of them even managed to find their way in, with enough chops and enough gumption. Oh, eventually, a Judge would find out and there'd be hell to pay, but at least they got to taste the _good life_ for a few minutes, or even a few hours.

Ffamran had always enjoyed these parties, of course. It wasn't because they were _the place to be_ for someone of stature, and it wasn't because of the feast for the eyes that paraded all about the city. For him, especially in the past few years, it was simply that it was easier to hide than to be noticed.

It was easier to be someone else, _anyone_ else. With a mask covering his face, anonymity became a much-needed friend in a city where there was no escape from who he was. No one asked his name now, and even if they might have recognized his voice, there was too much going on for anyone to pay him much mind. There was nothing to do tonight but blend in with the crowd. He could say whatever he felt like, within reason, to whomever would listen. No one would look at him sideways for being Dr. Cid's son, and no one would have ridiculous expectations that he had no intentions of meeting.

It was the only freedom he could find. Otherwise, he found simply being in Archades _stifling_. He longed to be just a _bit_ older, able to get out of the city without someone trailing him, or reporting his every move back to his father. Lately, the _good doctor_ hadn't been much concerned with his son, or much of anything outside whatever he was working on. There was some rumor going around that Ffamran was next in line to become a Judge, but even Ffamran himself didn't believe _that_ nonsense. He'd be a terrible Judge! The fact that anyone at all believed it was laughable to him.

He tried to let all that nonsense go and just enjoy the festivities. There were performers in the streets - really _good_ ones, not just the ones the Judges chased off when there wasn't a celebration going on - and he stopped to watch one of them. This one had some kind of magicks he was using. Ffamran was sure he recognized the way the fire moved. That didn't make the show less impressive, however, and when the performer stopped, Ffamran applauded with the rest of the crowd.

He hadn't seen anyone he recognized. Of course, everyone was dressed up, but he almost always found _someone_ whose costume was a bit too obvious. So far, he hadn't had any luck in that arena, and it left him on his own to flirt with a girl as she passed, and hoped she was pretty under there, or maybe flirt with a man as _he_ passed, even though that lost its fun when he couldn't see their reactions properly.

The party went on, and Ffamran found his own interest waning. There was plenty to do, and see, and "experience" (whatever that _really_ meant), but it was still Archades underneath it all, wasn't it? The Empire knew how to throw a party as well as it knew how to throw a man in the dungeons and lose the key. Perhaps his own growing bitterness was getting in the way of his enjoyment. Or perhaps he hadn't had enough to drink. At least one of those things was easily remedied.

He walked toward the nearest bar, stopped to talk with a lady in a costume that should hardly have been worn out in polite company. Even for a costume, it was pushing the boundaries, but Ffamran didn't mind _that_. In fact, it was probably one of the reasons he'd stopped, if not the only one - not that he'd have admitted it if he'd been questioned. A few minutes, however, revealed that the girl's brain was nearly as bare as her body, and Ffamran had to move on. He appreciated a pretty face - or whatever else - as much as anyone, but if there wasn't much going on inside, then he found no reason to continue conversation. He wasn't quite _that_ shallow, after all.

He bid the girl farewell and slipped away from her and into the bar. If he was going to get through the rest of the festivities without going completely mad, he'd definitely need to find some sort of drink to impair his judgement. Luckily for him, he had rather deep pockets. That was one thing his father hadn't restricted yet, and it left him free to drink all he wanted.

Many of the bar's patrons had pulled off their masks, and after a few drinks, Ffamran figured that he was anonymous enough here that he could do the same. He pulled off his mask and set it on the bar next to him. There was no immediate trouble, and he figured he'd put it back on once he was sufficiently drunk enough to bother venturing back out into the streets.

A few drinks in, and he'd forgotten what had been so _awful_ about the masque in the first place. As a matter of fact, he was _really_ thinking it was about time to go back out there and reassess the situation. He'd been absolutely right about the drinks, after all, and now it was time to rejoin the faceless sea of people out there. Perhaps they'd no longer be boring. _He_ certainly wasn't boring, and that might just be enough anyway.

With his adjusted attitude firmly in place, he got up and made his way towards the door. Halfway there, he realized he'd left his mask on the bar and went back to get it. He took his time walking back - it was a rather large bar. By the time he got there, however, he wished he'd just gone without.

There was a Judge standing where he'd been sitting only a few minutes ago. How he had failed to notice all that _armor_ in _this_ crowd, he didn't know. Drinking was, apparently, a double-edged sword. He probably wouldn't have cared so much, but now he was obvious, and the Judges were the last people he wanted to talk to tonight. They were the fastest buzz kill in the entire city - and, perhaps, in the entire _known world_.

And this Judge was among his least favorites.

"Ffamran," the Judge said, without turning around. "I think you left this here." He held up the mask.

Ffamran rolled his eyes and reached for it. _Definitely_ a buzz kill. Now he'd have to go spend another hour or so in another bar just to get the memory of this out of his mind.

The Judge turned around , pulling the mask out of Ffamran's reach. His own helmet was still effectively covering his face, of course. No Judge would take his helmet off in public, and no Judge would ever stoop so low as to think about _enjoying_ the festivities. Although it was possible they simply weren't allowed any time off at all - another reason that Ffamran had no intention of ever being one.

"You look like a pirate," the Judge remarked.

Ffamran raised an eyebrow, as haughtily as he could manage while inebriated. "Are you going to arrest me, then, Gabranth?"

Gabranth snorted. "Unlikely. Even you can't annoy me enough for me to risk your father's ire by carting you off in chains."

Ffamran laughed at the idea. "Are you sure? I think you might find it enjoyable. The prodigal son, led off in chains to face the father's wrath. It's me he'd be angry with, not _you_." There was bitterness that went unchecked in Ffamran's tone, though it was usually reserved _for_ Cid, and not so much for merely speaking of the man. A little alcohol did lift some of the ingrained habits of polite society, however, and Ffamran was not immune to those effects.

Gabranth was unamused, and did not rise to the bait. He rarely did, and certainly not in public. Closer to home, perhaps. Ffamran made a note to have a similar conversation again where there were not so many people, simply to annoy the Judge.

"If you're _not_ going to be carting me off in chains, then, can I have my mask back? I'd rather like to go _enjoy_ myself. Not that you'd know much about _that_ , I'd wager."

Gabranth paused, as if he was considering both a rebuttal and holding the mask hostage for a bit longer. He said nothing, however, and handed the mask to Ffamran.

Ffamran adopted a cocky look as he pulled the mask out of the Judge's gloved hand and back on over his head. "That's more like it. Wouldn't want to be recognized, you know. I'd be swamped. You're lucky _you're_ not being swamped, just being seen with me without it on, throwing my name around like it doesn't matter."

Gabranth was still unamused. "You think too highly of yourself and your station," he said, flatly.

"Ah. Something we have in common, then," Ffamran shot back. He turned to leave, having had enough of the Judge, and enough of a lack of anonymity. His bravado on this subject was, truly, just that.

"You never know, Gabranth," he continued, though he did not turn around. "One day I might just run off into the skies and _become_ a pirate. Then you'll be _itching_ to take me back to my father in chains."

Gabranth finally laughed, though the sound was hollow. It was made even hollower by the echo of the helmet he wore. "I would live to see such a day, Ffamran," he said. It was obvious that he took absolutely no stock in the boy's words, and wrote them off as drunk rambling.

Ffamran allowed himself to return the laughter. Really, there wasn't much of a threat behind words. Running off to be a sky pirate _was_ an absurdity. But it was also one hell of a fantasy.

For the rest of the evening, he told everyone who would listen that he was a notorious sky pirate with a bounty on his head, able to hide only because of the masquerade. It was far more enjoyable than he thought.

He made another note to thank Gabranth, later, for the idea.


End file.
